


It's the Final Countdown

by alastonaurinko



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Edward simping, M/M, No one gets to finish their sentence, No sex they get blown up before they get to that, Spoiler they both croak at the end, They're not making it out alive because I'm too lazy to write the pornTM bye, let him simp for the last time, you know what i love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alastonaurinko/pseuds/alastonaurinko
Summary: Ed is confronted with the end of the world and has an epiphany or two. Oswald stands next to him. For the most part.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	It's the Final Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> AU no e12 They’re just vibing
> 
> I guess this is like 4-5 years post e11 there's a new status quo after s5 not that it's relevant to the story but that's how I imagined them

This is it, then. They’re perched on what remains of the Gotham City Bridge, their sanctuary in the form of a sad piece of concrete hanging off twisted steel foundation. It's been deformed by a never-ending onslaught of friendly fire from their own government. Gotham had grown too dangerous to be allowed to exist any longer, they’d said. The catalyst for total decimation had seemed so trivial, a commonplace occurrence at that point. The levity with which Gotham's people, including the police force, responded to it had probably been a provocation within itself. It appeared that without any of them noticing Gotham had spiralled out of control a long time ago. 

The final missile to lay waste to their home is soaring towards them from miles away and Ed is struck with an unparalleled clarity that comes along with the realisation that you’ll be dead soon. Who he is right now, this is all that he will amount to. His every pursuit leading him to this moment. He hears footsteps behind him. Turns around to look at his companion.

Oswald looks pale. Paler than usual, that is. His make up had long worn off and his freckles are on full display. Ed hadn’t seen them for years. He’d forgotten how ridiculously bright they are against Oswald’s complexion; as vicious as fire ants scattered on white sand. 

’’Ed, don't you think—’’ 

’’Oswald.’’ 

It comes out more gently than he’d intended, but it works. Oswald falls silent and stops his advance. Looks over Ed's features, resolved. There's only one thing left to say. 

It feels like Ed’s choking on his own words, it must be all of the ash around them, as he’s trying to speak. ’’I don’t think there’s a way out of this, I need to tell you Oswald, I’ve needed to tell you for a long time —’’

That he’s enraptured by the fervid intensity Oswald looks at him with, that he’s always looked at him. Gotham, engulfed in flames falls away from his focus as he feels himself burning up under Oswald’s gaze. Searing heat slowly taking over his senses and charred skin when he later comes back to himself. That’s what he wants to tell Oswald, somehow beam these sensations directly into his brain and make him _understand_ what it’s like, to have lived like this for so long. He’s forgotten what it’d been like before. Before this poisonous and single-minded focus took over his life.

It’s like an infection that’s twisted and repurposed every part of him. It’s soaring too close to the sun and above the dampness of the sea. He can’t come up with a word for it. The answer to that particular riddle has been evading him for a long time. Everything he’s endured, love couldn’t hope to explain it. Love is easy and warm and sacrifice. Straightforward notions and liberating unconditionality in the face of all they’ve put each other through. Ed doesn’t feel liberated. He's been scorched and there will never be absolution. It’s what he deserves; it’s the only way he can have Oswald, he’s learnt that by now.

But now— It’s different, now. He doesn’t have to try to live with himself, after this. He won’t ruin Oswald like he’s been ruined, simply due to the fact that he won’t have the time for it. Liberating unconditionality.

So Ed makes the decision to give in to that unrelenting craving he’s always struggling against, and let’s the fire in his veins extend over Oswald too. It’s so hot that maybe it could protect them both from whatever is coming for them. His hands, possessed, land on Oswald’s shoulders, a heavy grip, and now that Ed has him it’s not _enough_ , it could never be; all his vehement devotion released in the dip Oswald’s collarbones make and then they both die. Mindlessly, he rakes his hands over to find purchase and pulls Oswald closer.

Oswald had just been starting to adjust to Ed’s hands on him when he’s nearly yanked off balance. Then every other concern is drowned out by sheer proximity. One moment Ed’s at arm's length and in another they’re inches apart, against each other. Oswald’s hands come to life and circle around Ed’s waist, half to stay upright and half as an instinctual reaction to whatever Ed’s doing with his arms (They’re tightly wrapped around his middle, a searing grip that won't be leaving any bruises). Ed's holding him harshly, but his gaze is tender. There’s greed in it that Oswald wants to kindle.

Oswald’s arms around him are enough for Ed to drive out the red haze over his mind and compose himself. Oswald’s stare is so focused, desperate to understand, and Ed wants to condensate all that he is into a few words for him, to show him what’s been driving him all this time. He doesn’t think about what he must have looked like, looks like right now at the altar of all his calamities, won’t permit himself. Stripped of all his carefully crafted pretenses and laid bare before Oswald’s eyes. 

’’ _You_ were the one who made me like this. Not my parents, Kristen, or Jim. Everything bad that’s happened to me I can always trace back to you.’’ He finally grounds out. Accusatory and furious. Oswald’s eyes flood with tears, and, for a moment, Ed thinks that he deserves it. Deserves it for all the pain Ed’s been carrying around because of him. Oswald looks down and tries to pull away but Ed doesn't let him. Grips him tighter. Oswald’s eyes are painfully wide when he looks back up at him, and they’re back at the warehouse, the docks and separated by bars. Ed hates him almost as much as he loves him.

’’And on top of all that, I can’t cut you out of me. I’ve tried God knows how many times but I just. can’t. I killed you, and after that I spoke with you, as I came up my next scheme. You were standing next to me when I set off my trap. And you mocked me, when they’d printed that name, _chess killer_ , slammed down the newspaper in front of me, before you—’’ Ed hesitates. This is not the time to confess his fantasies. He can hardly describe what he’d seen to himself. He continues:

’’The _point_ is that you’re always with me, in the sense that— there’s this hurt I feel, that I make you feel, and that, it’s how I know if I’m alive. _Don’t you get it?_ ’’ Ed’s the one that’s desperate, stitching phrases together that don’t make any sense while the sky could fall on top of them any minute, and— _hoping_ that by some miracle Oswald connects the dots for him so he doesn’t have to stumble over himself any further.

It’s so difficult to put into words when it shouldn’t be. Oswald knows him better than anyone, had foreseen his every move when Ed had been at the height of his power, so _why_ can’t he see this, too? 

’’What I’m trying to say is—, what I need you to understand, Oswald —’’ 

Oswald’s hands jerk up. Ed stands frozen in his tracks as he observes the hands come closer. Something delicate must be happening here, he thinks, because Oswald doesn’t touch him first. Ever. Not since Ed put him in the river. His heart is about to crawl out of his throat. Oswald looks enlightened. He’s moving forward with all of the confidence Ed is missing.

He takes Ed by his face, careful fingers trailing over his cheeks, ears, hair. Looks at him. Says: ’’Ed. You’re apart of me too.’’ 

And it’s that simple. Warm eyes peer at him. Oswald’s never looked so tender. The fire in him spreads and Ed thinks that somehow, it must purify him too. Because this can’t be anything but absolution, to be held so gently after so many betrayals, after such contempt for anything that they’ve shared, and _Oswald loves him_. Loves him, so clearly and for so long, Oswald, who trapped him in ice and put him on display in his club for months, killed his beloved and stood next to her mangled corpse and comforted him, loves him. They deserve each other. Ed is delirious with it.

So delirious, in fact, that he angles his face to accommodate for the height difference, leans down and is met halfway. 

Oswald kisses him just like he looks at him, speaks to him, plans against him. Burns him without knowing it and Ed doesn’t mind, doesn’t care about it anymore. He only exists in the space between their lips. 

_It’s so simple_ , Ed finally understands; he exists where Oswald exhales in his mouth and holds his face. Everything, everything he’s ever done, ever suffered, has been leading up to this. To his mouth travelling to Oswald’s neck and warm puffs of air behind his ear. This is what it feels like to fly too close to the sun. The ocean is vapour up in the air and it’s searing his skin. He shifts lower to press kisses to Oswald's collarbones, kisses him where his hands had gripped on him. Oswald gasps reverence into his hair and Ed needs him _closer_ , needs to leave no distance at all between them so that separation becomes unfathomable. And then it does. Ed doesn’t have to worry about anything ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> super fuck this godforsaken amalgamation of abandoned one shots like what the fuck is the setting here even??? You think I know???? Idk man fire goes boom or some shit i have literally no words left in my brain . Like at the time I'm writing this note I've literally stopped caring about the plot i just want this to be coherent can someone PLEASEEEE give me a crumb of braincells. Thank god I've finished this.


End file.
